He recalled a memory of a timeline.

He was in a tent with the burnt woman. Her lovely pair of red eyes and that armor of hers scarred by battle. Beautiful as she was there was an aura that caused those who saw her worship the ground she walks.

He recalled being a loyal dog hunting down for the burnt woman in this timeline.

It was a strange dream of him standing like a spectator on the sidelines. The fervor in the eyes that he was showing in this dream unreal. Here was a man who dedicated his heart to the victory of the light.

“I want you to become the devil for me.”

This was new. This was what he was called to do in one of the timelines. To be the devil that was hated by the world. It was a deal made by the two to provide a common enemy to rally against.

Nolan didn’t know what she was thinking, but he had thought that she was planning to make a devil out of him. Standing on the side he thought how ridiculous her request was. Still, what surprised him was how eager he was to throw it all for the sake of this woman. In this dream, he could tell the spell that was on her words, and those glowing red pair of eyes that seemed to tell him.

“Why am I seeing this dream?” he asked.

The dream fast-forwarded.

He lay down on the table with the burnt woman herself manipulating his insides. His body was being fused with the corpse of the overlord of the demons who had been hunted down by the burnt woman.

When the process was done he had the appearance of the overlord of the demons. The burnt woman stood before him without any emotions on her face. Her hand on his blackened cheek. Her alluring aura forcing him to listen. There was resistance, but he was under her spell.

He obeyed as commanded. He subjugated the tribes in order fool the world. That is why he was standing in front of them with his obsidian broadsword and sending his people to die. He had no control. He became a monster out of necessity for the burnt woman to achieve her goal of finding a way out of the world.

She was not Ciara. That was something he was certain about. This was a collective consciousness of the burnt woman. A consciousness that wanted to save more than she could. A messiah that wanted to save the world even it means damning the soul of one person for it.

“He can take it,” she reasoned.

And so he damned Nolan into this path that would allow her to search for an answer that was beyond any of her means. She was trying to figure out the workings of the world and without anyone to help. She started from the bottom and took him into this repeated loop of suffering as a way to discover the inner workings of the world.

“My faithful knight,” she said.

This time it was a memory of Nolan with a sword stabbed on his stomach. All around him was the legion of the light that stood against him. By her orders, he chooses to fight the impossible, not because he chooses to, but because she ordered.

This was his life. To be on the ground dying for a woman who he thought was the same. Even as he stands as a spectator he only felt his stupidity radiating from this scene. Was all his life so simple that he’d dedicate his heart and soul for one thing?

Yet even though he was under her blade. Those who followed him were charging the enemies. The darkness he conjured was breaking, and he couldn’t find it himself to let go of the demon folks that choose to support a nobody like him. He was a fraud of an overlord of the demons. He was a sham that kept on going in hopes that this woman who had found a way to manipulate the time of this world could figure out a way to save everyone.

It was easy to say that it was for the greater good of all. That he should be honored that he had taken the role. He couldn’t even dare to think of how many times he had played that role only for him to be thrown aside. She did not care as long as she could achieve her goal.

Nolan Salvatore was a puppet.

He did not belong to that world and thus he was a malicious cog that could be used. He was able to change things solely because he wasn’t supposed to be in this world. He was a tool. That’s why he had strings on him that made him act.

Seeing these memories that flash like a film reel made Nolan wear a tired smile. He was a fool. But in the end, he thought that even a fool like him was allowed to have something.

Still, even though in these memories he was a puppet for those higher than him. He was surrounded by those who believed in someone like him.

Even so, he was proud of himself.

He could recall what brought a bit of light inside his heart.

It was insignificant and it didn’t matter in the long run.

But when he offered his hand to that destined girl trapped in the well.

He knew that he wouldn’t become a monster. No, even if he despairs, he will not allow himself to be broken. The repeated timelines did not break him. Even if he did the vilest thing. He knew that somewhere along the way the goodness that he had protected still lived.

The memories faded. The monster that laid on the ground as he was stabbed to the heart by the burnt woman. The monster was slain and maybe that was his last memory before he found himself back on Oasis as a free man.

He woke up from that dream.

The ceiling he built and the bed he procured.

Nolan Salvatore sat up and looked distantly.

He found an answer.

“Okay, I’ll let go then.”